


The Sun In My Eyes

by imagined_melody



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Mickey Doesn't Talk, Mickey's secret adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_melody/pseuds/imagined_melody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something about the way Ian Gallagher looked in the sunlight that made Mickey want things he would never otherwise admit to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun In My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally inspired by a picture of Ian from approximately season 2, but God knows I can't find it now.

There was something about the way Ian Gallagher looked in the sunlight that made Mickey want things he would never otherwise admit to.

It didn’t matter what time of day it was—he’d noticed this attraction in the spreading glow of morning and the calm of sunset (and even sometimes in the bright middle of the day, when the light made Gallagher’s pale skin and fiery red hair almost luminescent). They could be indoors or outside; location didn’t make much difference in this strange phenomenon, as long as the sun could get in. To Mickey, Ian attracted sunlight—and where the boy was normally sexy, or even cute (a word Mickey tried so hard to think of as a taunt, when his mind usually meant it very differently), the glow made him suddenly and undeniably beautiful.

It made him want to get Ian out from under the cheap fluorescent lights of the Kash-and-Grab, to see him catch the sunlight and hold it like those multicolored prisms his mom used to have hanging on the kitchen window. (They’d come down when she passed, like all the rest of her stuff—thrown into a box somewhere, if not tossed straight out into the street. But sometimes he thought he saw a reflection of them, when Ian was in his periphery.) The fiery hue of his hair was washed-out and too-bright in the artificial glare of the convenience store, and Mickey would frown, reaching over and tugging on it sometimes like it bothered him. Ian would slap him away with a muttered, “Stop pulling my hair, douchebag,” and Mickey would grin cheekily and pretend he’d just been trying to annoy him.

“Hair makes you look like an alien,” he’d retort, and cackle at Ian’s muttered _fuck off._

When he really noticed it was in the quieter moments—Ian sitting on his bed doing homework or something-or-other, leaning against the headboard so he was backlit by the afternoon sun. At times like those he looked fuckin’ angelic, and Mickey would stare if he could get away with it. The sun seemed to radiate right through him, pale skin translucent like porcelain against such a stunning backdrop. Mickey was flooded with the desire to lean into Ian’s personal space and fist a hand in that glowing hair, kiss him until he absorbed some of that heat and light.

It never occurred to him that, maybe, he could.

Ian looked up, smiling softly at him. Mickey blinked, and cleared the sun-spots from his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Word to the wise: I have a tumblr now! You can find me at imaginedmelody.tumblr.com. Come say hi. :)


End file.
